


Go for Gold

by CieldelaRose



Category: The Derp Crew (Youtube RPF)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, OT5, Olympic Games AU, Polyderps
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-10
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-02-24 21:01:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2596292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CieldelaRose/pseuds/CieldelaRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A polyderps au were they are athletes competing in different categories in the Summer Olympics.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mornings are terrible for everyone envolved

**Author's Note:**

> ChilledChaos (Anthony) – Football player  
> ZeRoyalViking (Steven) – Hockey player  
> GassyMexican (Max Gonzalez) – Wrestling (Greco Roman)  
> Seannarers (Adam Montoya), TheRPGMinx – Gymnastics (Artistic)  
> TehSmarty (John Aprigliano) – Basketball  
> GalmHD (Anthony) – Boxing  
> EatMyDiction (Nick) – Weight lifting  
> Tom Fawkes - Tennis  
> Mr Sark (Scott Robison) – Shooting
> 
> If I make any mistakes please tell me, english is not my native language and I know next to nothing about the Olympics. (There's a purposeful mistake on my part on the Summer version of Hockey, for all intents and purposes the version of Hockey Ze is playing is the Winter Olympics one)

“Absolutely not.”

  
“Aw dude come on! I've been out here for like an hour!” He whines to the oak door in front of him. It doesn't open, obviously. It hasn't shown signs of opening yet but he’s hopeful his pleas will be answered soon.

  
“You got here five minutes ago.” Comes the muffled response. Anthony curses Steven and his neon green bedside clock. He counts down from ten in his head and crosses his arms impatiently.

  
“You can’t just stay in bed all day, Ze!” His eyes shift over to John’s room and hopes he’s not waking him up with his yelling. Late-night training was a bitch he knew too well.

  
“I don’t have training till ten. I’m not getting up before that. Fucking leave me be Chilled.” Okay, time for another tactic. He was prepared for this.

  
“I’ll buy you an iced latte.” It’s either this or getting Galm out of his boxing induced coma-like sleep. Both options would come back to bite him later, but at least Ze didn’t have the mean right hook Galm had.

  
He hears shuffling coming from inside the room and five minutes later the door opens to reveal a rumpled Canadian. “Hey buddy, ready to go get breakfast?” Steven eyes him with the sort of distaste only a sleep-deprived person is able to. He grunts. “I’ll take that as a yes. Let’s go!”

  
He drags the man halfway through the apartment complex and into the cold morning air. There’s a fairly large white building between the apartments, the outside training grounds and the gym. It serves all types of food, makes a mean cup of coffee and its open 24/7. What more could an athlete need. There’s an actual restaurant on the other side of the apartment complex that’s fancy and has an all-night bar but it’s not really made for hanging out, so they make use of the cafeteria’s large and comfy chairs when they all meet up.

Some of their friends woke up early this morning as well, if the commotion they hear from the back is any indication. They make their way over to them, moving through the tables packed with anxious-looking athletes. Four days till the games start and everyone’s feeling the pressure. He can’t wait till they get back home to their apartment.

  
Gassy and Nick are already pumped this early in the morning, it seems, having an argument and waving their forks at each other while Sark and Adam watch, dodging any pieces of breakfast coming their way. They slide in next to Sark while Seannarers angles his body away as much as possible from Diction and Max as their argument starts heating up and their arm movements get wider and angrier.

  
“I could totally kick your ass!” Max is already slightly red in the face, and Nick’s smirk is getting wider by the minute. If he and Max woke up recently, they don’t look like it. He eyes Steven and wishes, not for the first time, the other were a morning person like their friends. He wishes Galm and Tom were morning people too, like him and Smarty, maybe then they could go on more dates. Training schedules really do get in the way of someone’s love life, especially when none of them train at the same time, in the same place. So many hours wasted just waiting for them to get semi-functional enough to go anywhere together.

 

  
“Haha! Yeah right!” Diction flails his hand in response, just as Minx passes by on her way out and Adam takes it as his cue to leave before he gets hit with any limbs or tableware of any sort.

  
“Bye guys!” Nanners says over his shoulder as he follows her to the gym, chatting about balls or whatever it was gymnasts talk about before engaging in what can only be described as magic gravity-defying contortionism.

Nick and Gassy shout at each other a little more, then they get up and leave also, making plans for dinner with Sark before getting out in a flurry of limbs and promises of ass-kicking. They watch them leave with undisguised relief.

  
“How the hell do they have so much energy in the morning?” The Canadian mumbles into his shoulder. Sark takes a swing of his whiskey and sits with them in comfortable silence for a while until he gets up to “Shoot some fucking targets.” The athlete dream, waking up at fuck o’clock to practice the trade, then going to sleep at 10pm, if you don’t have late training like Galm and Tom, of course, poor unlucky bastards. Anthony orders an iced latte and a coke and tries to remember the last time he woke up later than 8am.

  
By the time Ze gets somewhat back to the land of the living, Tom and Smarty are on the other side of the table and Chilled is placing a latte in front of him.  
“You guys getting in some morning training before lunch?” John asks while calling a waiter over. Anthony rubs Steven’s back and nudges him forward a bit to wake him up and Tom rubs Smarty’s tight absentmindedly.

  
“My team is going in after five actually, taking the morning off.” He turns to Ze. “You have any morning training today, right?” The other nods, mumbles something about starting at 10, and looks pained at the prospect of doing anything other than going back to bed. Tom looks on in sympathy and Smarty pokes the Canadian’s arm a bit in hopes of getting him to drink his much needed caffeine.

  
“We on for lunch at 2pm then?” Tom and Smarty nod and Steven downs his drink like it was alcohol. It probably does as much as whiskey would, to be honest, and he needs all the help he can get, at least until the adrenaline kicks into his system. Chilled kicks him lightly under the table.

  
“You mind if I watch you play?” Smarty drums his fingers on the table and Tom messages Galm about their lunch plans.

  
“Yeah dude, me and Tom don’t have training yet either. We can watch you play for a while, and then we can go to lunch. We’ll meet up with you guys there after breakfast.” He feels Ze shift next to him and hum against his side.

  
“Sure, it’ll be a bit boring though. We’re doing basic exercises today, so it’ll be just half the team. The rest got afternoon training.” He sounds grumpy about it too.  
“Drew the short end of the straw there buddy?” There’s a look of annoyance on Ze’s face for a moment and then Chilled gets punched in the ribs. He takes back the comment about Galm’s right hook.

“Fucking owww, fine fine! I’ll stop teasing! You ready to go?” Chilled gets up, rubbing his wounded side and grimacing. He makes room for Steven to slide out and they wave goodbye at the others.

About an hour into it the others join him, having wrestled a grumpy Galm out of bed and into some clothes. They sit in relative silence, watching their boyfriend slide around with surprising grace while dodging his teammates and ramming into them when someone grabs the puck. He feels tired just from watching and he’s pretty sure his ass has gone flat from sitting for so long. They have to shake Galm awake every few minutes and Smarty and Chilled got into an elbow fight halfway through, but it was a great experience overall. It was, admittedly, a bit boring, but they got to see Ze skating and scoring and sweating, hollering his way whenever he scored and getting a large smile in response.

They’re nearing the four hour mark when the coach calls them all to a stop. He gives them some instructions, pats one of Steven’s teammates on the shoulder and they disperse, some of them talking animatedly to each other. Ze declines an invite for lunch and bids them goodbye, making his way up to his boyfriends.


	2. Beach days are for people without shit to do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cozido à Portuguesa is a portuguese food that has pork, beef and chicken.

The restaurant they pick is crowded and stuffy, but apparently it makes great traditional cuisine, add to that seaside view and you have a wonderful excuse to drag your boyfriends to the beach, at least according to Chilled. Not that they’re going to the beach, because they only have about an hour and a half before Johns has to go train. Galms pout throughout lunch said much about his beach-loving nature, staring down at his ‘Cozido à Portuguesa’ with such sadness that the bits of pork might’ve started playing a tiny violin with a chorus of other meats crying in the background. Tom kept poking him in the stomach, being the closest to him, although being on the other side of the table, Chilled managed to somehow nudge his feet on Galms calf in a playfull attempt at footsie. At some point Chilled lost his balance and ended up kicking Smarty’s leg, startling a disappointed Galm into laughter at his crumbled form. Ze took it all in stride, mispronouncing everything on the menu, “They speak portuguese here Steven, what the fuck kind of language are you imitating” “Shut up, at least im trying.”, and steering clear of 95% of it. They get ice-cream, “One scope each please. No Chilled, you’re not getting a triple supreme.” And spend what little time they have left looking at the sea and talking about the upstairs window that needs to be fixed and the hamsters that need to be taken back from Tom’s cousin. They head back to the apartments and, once there, they go their separate ways, leaving Smarty to his training and going to Ze’s room until Chilled goes train too.

  
They settle down on the Canadian’s bed and, after a heated discussion involving remote hogging they unanimously, “Unanimously means everyone jackass, I wanted to see Star Wars.” “Shut up Chilled, you’re not even gonna watch the whole thing.”, decide to watch Star Trek. Thirty minutes into the movie, the volume is lowered and the sheets pulled up. Chilled has an arm under Galm’s head and a hand on Steven’s thigh while the man is fast asleep on Tom, his hokey-fueled-exhaustion finally catching up to him.  
An hour in everyone is half asleep, their arms tangled together and their eyes drifting shut while Chris Pine stares at Zachary Quinto in an incredibly sexual way. That’s when Chilled’s alarm goes off.

  
“What the fuck Chilled!?” Galm says, jolting out of the pleasant trance-like state he was in and slapping said person in the face unintentionally. Ze groans into Toms shoulder and the man rubs his face while Anthony fishes around for his phone. He turns off the alarm and gets ready for his afternoon training. Kissing the others before leaving with a quick wave goodbye.

  
By the time the credits roll down the screen, Steven and Tom are fast asleep and Galm is scrolling through his phone. He nudges Tom’s arm gently and is rewarded with him turning his head in Galm’s direction, eyes squinted in a vain attempt at figuring out if the figure in front of him is his boyfriend or the cookie monster that infiltrated his dream to steal all his cookies. Anthony brushes his hand down the bridge of his nose and his eyes slide shut again. Galm pinches his nose in retaliation.  
“Let’s grab something to eat.” Tom nods and gets out from under Ze, covering him up and putting a pillow under his head.  
“You wanna come with us, Ze?” The man in question groans noncommittally and burrows into the covers.

  
“Leave him. Smarty’s probably done in thirty minutes. They’ll eat together afterword.” Galm tugs Tom out the door and they leave Steven in his bed.  
The room is quiet for an hour or so, until a knocking comes from the door.

  
“Steven. You awake?” Not this shit again.

  
“What do you want Smarty?” He bundles the sheets around him tighter in preparation.

  
“I’m coming in.” Is all the warning he gets, and then John comes barging in, pulling the covers away from his grasp.

  
“Noooooo.” He grabs tighter, trying to keep them on. “Smartyyyyy”

  
“C’mon. We’re getting some food. I'm hungry as hell.”


End file.
